


Hope in the Darkness

by chasethewind



Series: Dribbles and Drabbles [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasethewind/pseuds/chasethewind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is hope in the darkness. You just have to find it, unless it finds you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope in the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> It's word vomit, but I felt the need to write it after everything that's happened today. You definitely don't have to read it. I just REALLY needed to write something to feel better and this is what I came up with. For those of you who don't already know, Tim Samaras, a storm chaser and researcher who I truly admire, died in the El Reno, OK tornado, along with his son Paul and his chasing partner Carl Young on May 31, 2013.
> 
> Tim was an amazing person and an exceptional chaser. He died doing what he loved. This is a monumental blow to the meteorology community. His research was invaluable and added so much knowledge to the meteorology community. We lost a true icon. My heart goes out to his family and to Carl's family.
> 
> RIP Tim Samaras, Paul Samaras and Carl Young
> 
> I wrote this drabble after hearing the news and it still hurts when I talk about it.
> 
> Disclaimer: My original idea, but I don't own the characters, the show or the song. Just trying to be creative.

The pain was unbearable, both physical and emotional. Stabbing yourself in the chest isn't easy; neither is watching your best friend die right in front of you. But tonight, Oliver Queen had done both. Now, as he staggered back to his motorcycle he found the pain to be overwhelming. He felt his body weaken beneath him until he could barely stand. It was too much effort for a man who had just lost everything he'd spent five years trying to return to.

There was no way of sugar coating it; Oliver's life was in shambles. Maybe it would have been better to die on that island. Maybe then things would be so fucked up. He braced himself against a cinderblock wall, finding it increasingly harder to move as his thoughts swirled with the events of the past couple of weeks.

This was not what Oliver had wanted to come back to. The world had fallen apart beneath his feet and all he could do was watch. He'd tried to stop it, tried to save it, but all his efforts were in vain. He couldn't make things whole again. Everything had become a tangled mess of lies and betrayal.

But it wasn't only his mother's betrayal, it was Oliver's own that now weighed heavily upon him. Had he not been so selfish and so focused on his feelings for Laurel, would Tommy still be alive? The last thing he'd ever wanted to do was hurt his best friend, but he had, and it cost him, dearly.

Oliver found his way back to the alley where he'd left his bike, but it still felt like he had miles to go before he reached it. Too exhausted to stand, he slid down the wall beside some old wooden crates. 'This is it,' he thought. 'It'll be over soon.'

He was giving up, all hope of salvaging his life gone in moments. Oliver could feel it deep down in his soul; nothing was going to bring him back from the edge this time. He was done with the lies, done with trying to be someone he no longer was or could be. Gone was the carefree playboy. He had died on the island where the Hood was born. But tonight, the Hood had died as well. The List had become obsolete now that Malcolm Merlyn's plan had come to fruition.

There wasn't much left to live for. Even Laurel no longer felt like a part of his life. It was all tumbling down into the abyss. Oliver could feel it slipping away with each labored breath. Life held no meaning for him. It vanished that night along with half of the Glades.

Taking a long, labored breath, Oliver closed his eyes. He was losing his will to live. It slipped away with every passing second until he felt something warm crawl into his lap. Opening his eyes, he found a little brown ball of fur with large chocolate eyes staring up at him. The tiny puppy looked to be no more than a couple months old with a soft coat of curly hair matted from debris.

The little fur ball laid its paws on Oliver's chest, slowly climbing up until its cold black nose was nuzzling his neck. He slipped off his gloves and began petting the friendly creature. It licked his face. Oliver reveled in the unconditional affection the dog was giving him. He continued stroking its fur, enjoying the soft feel of its coat against his fingers. When he pulled away, it whimpered and began looking for his hand again.

Oliver couldn't help but smile. How could something so small have such an effect on him? Just moments ago he'd been ready to leave this world, but now this puppy had somehow managed to pull him back from the brink with a few licks of its warm tongue. It was a sign, he realized.

Although he'd lost a lot, Oliver hadn't lost everything. He still had Thea, who was probably worried sick by now. Oliver resolved to call her as soon as his chest wound was patched up. He also still had Diggle, someone he knew he could trust with his life. They'd had their spats, as all friends do, but in the end, they had each other's backs. He'd proved that to Oliver tonight.

And then there was Felicity. It wasn't until this moment that Oliver truly realized what kind of friend he had in her. Not only was she smart and unintentionally funny, she was also strong willed and compassionate. She made him laugh with her rambling, but she also helped him grow as a person with her ability to call him out on certain things others would have let slide. He trusted her just as much as he trusted Diggle, if not more.

A part of Oliver knew that if he didn't get up, it would hurt Felicity more than anyone else. She'd spent most of her nights with him, digging up information on names in the now defunct list, helping him with his mission in ways he wasn't able to help himself. And tonight she'd put her life on the line in hopes of helping him save the city. Not only had it shown her courage, it also showed how much she cared for him.

Oliver's resolve had returned. Unzipping his jacket, he placed the puppy inside so only its head stuck out beneath his chin, then eased himself off the ground using the wall for support. The tiny creature whimpered but didn't squirm. Oliver pet its head before stumbling to his motorcycle. Again, he wondered how something so small could completely and irrevocably turn his life around in the span of a few seconds.

It didn't matter. Oliver had found his new purpose. Thea, Diggle and Felicity were now the three things he had to live for. They were his family, both by blood and by friendship. And then there was the little guy tucked in his coat. It had been his beacon, bringing him back from the darkness that night after all he'd lost.

Names for the puppy began popping up in Oliver's head as he drove down the mangled streets of the Glades, but one stood out among the rest: Hope. That's exactly what it had given him that night, hope in the darkness. He really didn't care if it was a boy or a girl, that's what he would name it to remind him that no matter how dark or bleak things got, there would always be hope.


End file.
